Too Close
by KatNinja
Summary: All the European countries and China always stood too close to Alfred when talking to him. Especially Arthur. AmericaxEngland Fluff


**Too Close**

---------

God, what was it with Europeans and standing so close when talking?

Francis was standing way too close for Alfred's comfort. He was saying something about Arthur being a 'une pomme de terre avec le visage d'un cochon d'inde.' Whatever that means. Alfred scooted away from Francis, only to have him follow.

But it wasn't just Francis.

Antonio and Feliciano and Ludwig and Ivan and Wang Yao and Toris and even _Arthur_ stood really close when talking to him.

"And Arthur can mange du merde et meurt,la pute!"

"Francis you stupid git! Stop calling me bad things in French!"

And then they were fighting again. He glanced over to where Felix and Toris were talking. They were standing really close as well. He sighed and wandered around until he found Matthew.

"Matty," he whined, startling his brother.

"Yeah, Alfred?" he asked.

"How come they all stand close when they're talking?" He gestured vaguely back at everyone.

Matthew blinked, slightly surprised at the question and answered,

"Well, they've always stood that close. We used to as well, when we were little. Remember? And I guess because we have more room or something like that, we kinda just started to stand farther away."

Alfred blinked. He sort of remembered that. When Arthur would lean in close to tell him things and it was just natural. Now he just got all flustered.

"Thanks, Matty." Alfred said vaguely, drifting away absentmindedly.

"Alfred's strange sometimes, isn't he?" Matthew said to his bear.

---------

Arthur was talking to him – no, complaining, _again_. That's all Arthur ever did around him anymore – and he was leaning in close again. Alfred felt his face get hot and he took a step back. Arthur mirrored him.

"Damnit, Arthur! Stop standing so close! I understand it's all like 'European' and shit, but please! It's awkward!"

Arthur blinked at him, surprised,

"And why do you complain at _me_ anyway? I'm sure Matty is a much better listener than I – even if I am more awesome – and he likes to be around you!"

Arthur said nothing at first, and looking to the side of Alfred, he finally said,

"Oh. I guess I should go find Matthew then." Then he added after a small pause, "But he's probably with Francis. Oh well. I'll figure something out. And I'm sorry you don't like to be around me. I'll stop trying to talk to you then."

He turned and left. Alfred stood there and watched, not saying a word.

_No, no, I don't want you to go. Please come back. Please. I didn't mean that. I like you, just not when you constantly complain when I'm around. Matty says you never complain when he's around. Am I just that horrible? Please, please don't turn away from me._

The door closed with a click, and there was silence.

---------

Arthur sighed and laid on his bed. He knew he should be at that UN meeting. He should be. He should get up right now and go. He'd be late, but he'd be there.

But he wasn't about to get up, not when he knew that Alfred would be there.

_I love you. I love you so much. Why do you hate me? I thought that maybe it had been a long enough time since the revolution and that maybe you would have gotten over it. Maybe we could be friends. Maybe we could have been… Ha, I'm a fool. Such a fool._

Arthur finally – finally – decided that he should go. He stood up and quietly walked out of the house, not even bothering to lock it. Normally he did, but Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland were at home. They'd stop anyone.

When he got there, everyone stared at him, surprised that he was late. He was never late.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he mumbled sullenly, taking a seat next to Antonio.

---------

_Of course he wouldn't sit next to me. Not after yesterday. I bet everyone knows something's up now. The seat next to me was closer than the one next to Spain._

"Alfred?"

Alfred jumped, surprised. He was sitting at his desk, looking at the paperwork he needed to fill out, but not really thinking about it.

"Oh, Toris. What's up?"

"I was wondering what you wanted for dinner."

_I want the stuff Arthur used to cook for me when I was a kid. It was good. I miss it._

"Um, I don't know. Just cook whatever you want to."

Toris nodded and started to walk out of the room, but paused suddenly when he got to the door. He turned back to look at Alfred and asked,

"Are you okay? You seem… off."

"I'm fine. I'm a hero, heroes are always okay!"

Toris smiled and nodded.

"Okay, as long as you're fine."

He left again, going off to make dinner.

_Do you hate me? Wait, no, of course you do. You've always hated me. When I was little, I know you were so much prouder of Matty. Matty listened to you, always. I was the bad child. And you never liked me. And you never will, will you…_

"Alfred, do you mind if we have Kibinai- What's wrong?"

That was when Alfred realized he was crying.

"Nothing," He said, wiping away the tears quickly. _Nothing that hasn't been going on for a long time._

Toris walked closer and hugged him.

"You're strong, Alfred, I'm sure you get through it. Whatever it is."

Alfred just nodded, crying again.

---------

Arthur glared at Francis. He already was in a horrible mood, and he was incredibly tired. He had not been getting any sleep because of stupid, _stupid_ Alfred and he was always thinking about it.

"I not in the mood to deal with you today, Francis," he said through clenched teeth.

"You're never in the mood to deal with me, pute."

"Francis, leave Arthur alone."

Arthur turned to see Alfred standing there.

"You're just making trouble for me. I have to listen to Arthur complain about you all the time."

Francis made a face, but nodded and walked away.

The moment afterward was awkward for Arthur, but Alfred looked apathetic. Arthur was just about to say something – anything to break this silence – but then someone called Alfred's name. He walked past Alfred, placing a hand on his shoulder for a moment as he went by. Arthur stood there for a moment, then moved, finding a spot by himself against the wall. He let out a small sigh of relief. He knew Alfred didn't hate him.

---------

Alfred sighed and finally stood up. Everyone else was either gone or was leaving. He was glad the meeting was over. He wanted to go home and just pretend that no one else existed. Especially not Arthur.

"Alfred?"

"What?" he snapped, not really looking at who it was. When he looked up, Arthur was standing there, actually looking hurt. Everyone else was gone now.

"Sorry," said Alfred, "I'm just… in a mood."

Arthur took a step closer and said,

"I just want to say thanks, for getting rid of Francis this morning."

Alfred took a step back.

"That's all I'm good for anymore, huh?"

Step forward.

"What are you talking about?"

Step back.

"Oh, come on. I know that the only reason you wanted me as your little brother when I was younger was my resources."

Step forward.

"Are you daft? I never-"

Step back.

"Don't deny it! I know that you loved Matty more than me. He listened to you. He was the good child."

Step forward.

"That doesn't mean I don't love you _or_ that I love Matthew more than you."

Step back.

"Oh, really. Then why always complain when I'm around? Matthew says that you never complain to him. Am so terrible that I put you in a bad mood when I'm around?"

Step forward.

"Hardly. I just figured I could confide in you."

Step back – and he hits the wall. Stuck.

"Why would you do that?"

Step forward.

"Don't!" Alfred suddenly said, "Don't stand so close."

Arthur moved closer.

"I confide in you because I love you, Alfred."

Arthur closed the few inches left between them and kissed him. Alfred's arms wrapped around Arthur. When they pulled away, Arthur asked,

"Am I still standing too close?"

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**Author's Note**: So, I'm taking Spanish, not French, but this is what I was aiming for Francis to say (Feel free to correct me, I just looked up French insults on google)

une pomme de terre avec le visage d'un cochon d'inde - a potato with the face of a guinea pig

mange du merde et meurt, la pute - Eat s*** and die, the wh***

Also, a Kibinai is like some kind of Lithuanian meatloaf-pastry-thing(I'm not sure how to explain it...). Look up Lithuanian Cuisine in Wikipedia if you're really curious.

:)

This was inspired by my mother and British television.

I was watching this British mystery series and I noticed that they all stood really close to each other. So I asked my mom about it, because she's been everywhere and she said,

"Well, all Europeans stand really close to each other, compared to Americans."

And I was like AmericaxEngland!

Thus this pitiful thing was born.


End file.
